Ineffable
by MoonytheMarauder1
Summary: A collection of story demos that will one day grow into ridiculously long one-shots. Latest: After Fenrir's attack, Lyall has no choice but to move in with the werewolf to protect his son from the Ministry. / Remus' soulmate connection is finally active—he's not going to miss this chance at happiness.
1. To Have (But Never Hold)

**A/N: Hey y'all! This was written for Hogwarts. Prompts are below! :)**

**Word Count: 908**

**WARNINGS: Blood and injury**

**Notes: This is an AU where Voldemort failed at killing the Potters, and Remus is the secret keeper. I am going to make this a full-fledged story at some point (hopefully in the near future) under the same title. **

**Enjoy!**

Spells were flying all around Remus, lighting up the night sky in a random assortment of colors that he couldn't help but find deadly. His breathing was shallow and shaky, but he pressed on, firing curses like there was no tomorrow.

If he wasn't careful, then there very well might not be one.

Remus' amber eyes surveyed his surroundings carefully, wary of every movement. He couldn't go on like this, he knew. He was twenty-three with _grey hairs_, for Merlin's sake, because this blasted war with Voldemort was never-ending.

It was lonely, too. Remus knew that a battlefield was the worst place to feel sorry for himself, but he couldn't help but miss James, Lily, and Harry—who were in hiding—and Sirius, who was leading the Death Eaters on a trip around Europe, masquerading as the Potters' Secret Keeper.

Remus was the Secret Keeper, but no one needed to know that.

He fired off another spell—a stunner; he never aimed to kill—and dodged a Killing Curse. Remus flattened himself against a nearby wall that had half-collapsed, stealing a moment to catch his breath and take a look at his injuries. He'd cut himself in many places, but he knew enough to know that there wasn't anything that needed immediate attention. Bruises covered his body, but it was the sharp pain in his chest that concerned Remus the most. That, he knew, could be potentially very dangerous.

"Lupin."

Remus' head snapped up, and he locked eyes with Rodolphus Lestrange. Fear, icy and piercing, flooded his veins. Despite that, he straightened his spine.

"Lestrange," he said coldly.

Black eyes peered at him closely. Remus felt very small in his tattered robes and bloody body, but did his best not to show it. He drew himself up to his full height, ignoring the pain in his chest. Rodolphus approached slowly, his wand level with Remus' throat. Remus brought his own up to point at the Death Eater's chest.

They were at a standstill, waiting to see who would strike first.

"The Order of the Phoenix has already lost the war," Rodolphus whispered, a small smile on his lips. "Why do you still continue to fight?"

Remus raised his chin stubbornly. "As long as there are people like you in the world, I will fight."

A cold laugh burst forth from Rodolphus. "Bravery will get you nowhere." He raised his wand, and Remus readied his.

"_Avada Kedavra!"_

"_Stupefy!_"

The men cast their curses at the same time, red and green jets of light shooting past each other like parallel lines. Remus stared at the incoming death and didn't try to move; he knew with the utmost certainty that it would be useless. This was the end. This is how he would die.

The jet of green light hit home.

Remus gasped as it barrelled into him, knocking him over… but then he opened his eyes. He was still on the battlefield, he was still in pain—in fact, the pain in his chest had intensified.

Remus sat up.

Rodolphus was staring at him in shock, his indifference gone as though a veil had been lifted. Both men, it seemed, were perfectly fine.

Remus lifted a hand to his head; it was beginning to ache. It came away bloody. He'd hit his head, he suddenly realized. He hadn't noticed through the shock and adrenaline.

Not to mention the euphoria. He was alive. He was actually alive, because dead people couldn't feel pain.

He lifted his head to see Rodolphus approaching him slowly. He crouched down beside Remus. "Your stunner hit me," he murmured, barely audible over the sounds of the battle. "And you should be dead."

It was true. He should be. But he wasn't.

And there was really only one explanation. He took one look at Lestrange and realized the other man must know, too. To be perfectly honest, Remus was surprised that the other man was even entertaining the thought of being soulmates with him.

"Lestrange. Lupin."

Remus looked to his right to find Severus Snape peering down at them. _Now_ Remus was afraid. He knew that look on Snape; he knew. He knew, and he was going to do something completely drastic—

"Take him, Lestrange. I won't tell the master."

Rodolphus was on his feet in an instant, sneering at his colleague. All Remus could do was sit there, his thoughts in disarray. "At what price, Snape?"

Those black eyes that had so often looked upon Remus with hate were surprisingly devoid of ill-will. "None. I'll explain later. Leave now, before someone else sees you."

Remus' vision was blurring, but he still flinched away when Rodolphus' hesitant hands stretched towards him. The older man spoke uncharacteristically gently.

"I'm not going to hurt you, Lupin."

"And I'm—I'm not going anywhere with you," Remus gasped out. This was confusing and terrible, and he wasn't able to think straight right now. All he knew was that meeting your soulmate was supposed to be amazing—and this certainly wasn't.

Cold hands caught hold of Remus' arms. "You can't harm your soulmate," Rodolphus whispered as he lifted Remus to his feet, "and I couldn't kill you. You couldn't stun me. I'm getting you out of here whether you like it or not."

Then Snape was covering them as Rodolphus slung Remus' arm over his shoulder and Disapparated. The last thing Remus remembered before the blackness took him was Rodolphus laying him down on a bed, his expression grim.

**A/N: **

**365\. Words: 17. Veil**

**Insane House: 58. (character) Severus Snape**

**SF: Limbo: High - (character) Remus Lupin**

**NF: Waltzers: (title) To Have (But Never Hold)**

**EF: Gnome Throwing - (character) Rodolphus Lestrange**


	2. Hiraeth

**A/N: Hey y'all! This was written for Hogwarts. Prompts are below! :)**

**Word Count: 1012**

**WARNINGS: Character death, slightly graphic violence, controlling relationship (of sorts… my lycanthropy headcanons are complicated)**

**Note: This is definitely going to be made into a longer fic… it's too tempting to leave on its own. This is also a Red String of Fate AU (which, in the longer version, I will go more into). I'm also going to rate this chapter M… just in case. **

**Ari inspired this. Though I highly doubt this is what she had in mind. Whoops. **

**Enjoy!**

Fenrir's breathing was slow and even, so Lyall believed it was safe to slip out of the makeshift bed he shared with the man. His bare feet padded silently across the stone floor of the cave over to where little Remus lay in his cot.

Lyall watched his son closely. His small chest was rising and falling stubbornly, fighting a battle that Lyall couldn't help him with. He was too young for the curse that fate had bestowed upon him. He was too good to carry such a burden. Lyall's stomach twisted when he thought of that terrible night. Hope dead, Remus turned, and Fenrir howling at the moon with blood dripping from his maw…

Then, the next morning, Fenrir showed up looking more humble and human that Lyall had ever seen him before, insisting that he could hide and protect Remus and Lyall both.

But Lyall's attention had been focused on the red string that tied the two together as soulmates.

When Fenrir pushed him, growing urgent, Lyall had been at a loss. He'd loved Hope, though he'd always known they weren't soulmates. His heart was still in shatters, unable to mourn her. The string both disgusted and intrigued him.

Here was the monster that had slaughtered his wife and scarred his son. But he was also the man Lyall was destined to love, and above that, Lyall knew instinctively that Fenrir would be able to protect them from the Ministry.

So he agreed to go.

Now he and Remus were being sheltered in the werewolf pack, in a cave on a mountain face. It was odd, living here. Lyall wasn't sure how to feel.

Remus whimpered in his sleep, drawing Lyall out of his musings. He brushed the brown hair—just like his own—from his son's forehead, murmuring soft noises of comfort. Fenrir had explained that the days following the bite were often agony, and that few children survived. Lyall had faith in Remus, though. His boy… he was a fighter.

A hand was suddenly on his shoulder, and Lyall whipped around to see Fenrir looking down at him with those chilling blue eyes. But he wouldn't cower away; he stood his ground.

"Why did you do this to him?" he whispered harshly to the werewolf. He couldn't understand Fenrir's behavior. "You've hurt him, now you're helping him. What do you want from us?"

Fenrir's voice was low and gruff. "You'll see soon. There is a difference between the man and the wolf."

Lyall shook his head slowly, anger bubbling up within him. "Don't play games with me," he whispered harshly. "_You_ bit him. _You_ killed my wife. You could yet kill my son!"

"No!" Fenrir grabbed his shoulders, forcing him to look at him. "You don't understand, and you will need to if you are going to get through the next few weeks. The curse does not change a person—it is an internal influence that is always seeking to take over. Right now, I am myself. That night… that night I lost the battle to retain my mind. If Remus survives, he will face the same battle every day for the rest of his life."

Lyall frowned, his face pale in the moonlight streaming into the cave. "I don't understand."

Fenrir looked ten times older than he did in the daylight, and it unsettled Lyall. He knew that this wasn't some hoax; the heaviness in the other man's eyes was proof enough of that. He just didn't understand what this… presence was.

Fenrir didn't seem to have any other way of explaining it, though. "It's a magical presence," he said tiredly, "that is always seeking to take over. When Remus' mind stops fighting it… It will pounce. He will be gone, and the wolf will be all that's left."

There were so many questions that Lyall had, but he found that he didn't have the energy to ask them all. So he closed his eyes and decided that, for now, he would trust the universe. Fenrir was trying to explain, at least. He had answers, even if Lyall couldn't understand the questions.

He didn't have to love him, though.

Lyall rubbed the red string that was tied to each man's wrist. "I hate you, you know," he said softly.

"I know." If Fenrir was bothered, he didn't show it. He reached out slowly, letting a grimy finger trail down Remus' pale cheek. Lyall tensed. "I can help him. Trust me, you'll thank me later."

Lyall bowed his head and slowly reached out to pull Fenrir's hand away from his son. The pain in his chest was threatening to drown him, and not for the first time, he wished he was back in his home with Hope, happy and oblivious to the fact that he had a soulmate out there.

A low growl sounded right beside his ear. "What you're feeling right now is regret," Fenrir whispered, every trace of compassion missing from his voice. "Regret that you didn't come sooner. That you did this to him, because you were close-minded enough to think that—"

He broke off suddenly, wrenching himself away from Lyall. "I'm sorry. That wasn't me."

Lyall's eyes were fixed on Remus; he tasted bile. "Control it around him," he snapped hoarsely. "He needs a strong role model. And he needs to _stay safe._"

"I'm—I'm trying. You have no idea how difficult this is, Lupin."

Fenrir's words were laced with frustration, but Lyall couldn't bring himself to care. Eventually, he sighed. "Go back to bed," he said softly. He couldn't bring himself to use Fenrir's surname; it was the name of a monster. "I'll be along in a minute."

After a brief hesitation, Fenrir did. Lyall bent over and kissed his son's forehead. "I'm going to keep you safe, Remus," he vowed quietly. "Whatever it takes. I'll never hurt you again." His voice broke. "I promise."

Then he stood up, looked reproachfully at the red string that was chaining him to this fate, and went to lie beside the being who was neither quite man nor quite monster.

**A/N: **

**71\. Cower**

**295\. FenrirLyall**

**SF: Guess the Name: Bellatrix: "Trust me, you'll thank me later."**

**NF: Waltzers: "I hate you, you know." / "Yeah, I know."**

**EF: Pie Eating Contest: Salted Caramel: "What you're feeling right now is regret."**


	3. In Pursuit of Happiness

**A/N: Hey y'all! This was written for Hogwarts. Prompts are below! :)**

**Notes: I will definitely be continuing this (though probably at a much later date) because there are not enough RemusTonks fics on the site, in my humble opinion. XD So keep a lookout for that!**

**Word Count: 851**

**Enjoy!**

Remus was sitting in the middle of an Order meeting when it first happened. A bored voice broke through the droning voice of Severus Snape:

_Hellooo soulmate. Can you hear me today? I'll tell you, it's taking the universe bloody long to connect us._

Remus jumped, drawing the attention of several Order members. He grinned sheepishly at them, trying to disguise how startled he was. Eventually, they turned back to Snape, who was glaring daggers at him, and left Remus to his thoughts.

He swallowed thickly. He knew, in theory, what this must be—a soulmate connection. But he'd spent thirty-five years without his.

It seemed the universe had finally decided they were ready for each other.

He realized that he needed to respond; he was a bit hesitant, but the thought of what Lily would have said if she learned he'd passed this opportunity up spurred him into action.

_Er, hello?_

Maybe not the most eloquent of responses, but he wasn't exactly an expert.

A movement to his left caught his eye. Nymphadora Tonks, a new Order member (though most of the Order was new, now) had twisted slightly in her seat. She caught his glance and grinned at him through a curtain of currently-magenta hair, which had been softening to rose pink to match her chipped nails moments ago. Remus smiled back and then pretended to turn his attention back to Snape. A moment later, his soulmate sent another message.

_Merlin's bloody beard. I really didn't expect you to answer!_

Remus' lips twisted into a smile. _I didn't expect to be contacted, believe me._

He heard her laugh. All words and sounds were distorted—sort of like listening to an echo—but he could tell by instinct that she was female. Then she asked a question he himself had been wondering.

_So… can we share names, or is that cheating?_

_I've no idea,_ Remus answered honestly. _I never planned this far ahead._

She let out another laugh. _Neither did I! I'm so glad I'm not the only one._

Remus grinned a bit wider, and Sirius, from across the table, looked at him strangely. Remus just shrugged and waved his concern away. He sent another message to his soulmate.

_What is it you want to do?_

_...you're leaving it up to me? Let's hope I don't bollocks this up, then. Erm. Let's get to know each other first, then decide._

Remus relaxed slightly. It was a good idea, in his opinion. And maybe it was naive of him, but he hoped that this would allow his soulmate to get to know him well enough that she didn't leave him when she inevitably found out the truth about him…

It had worked with James, Sirius, and Peter, at least.

_I think that's a good idea._

The Order meeting ended, and before he could slip off to his room, Sirius pulled him aside.

"All right, spill," his oldest friend demanded. "I haven't seen you smile like that in over a decade—nevermind that I was absent for most of it. And it's weeks from the full moon, so don't try to play it off as some sort of weird muscle spasm—"

Remus spluttered indignantly.

"—so you've really no choice but to tell me, Remus."

Remus narrowed his amber eyes. "You could have just asked, you know."

Sirius looked at him in disbelief, his dark brows touching his hairline. "Since when have you ever answered me when I ask you questions?"

It was a fair point. Remus cleared his throat. "It's nothing, Sirius—"

"See! You're proving my—"

"—my soulmate just contacted me."

Sirius' mouth had been open, ready to retort, but snapped closed. "Oh," he said hoarsely. His grey eyes were wide. "Merlin. Wow." He grinned suddenly. "About bloody time!"

Remus laughed a little and rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, well. I'll be in my room for a bit, if you don't mind."

Sirius clapped him on that back, his eyes sparkling. "Of course, mate. You go on ahead; I'll give Molly a good excuse for you."

Remus thanked him and hurried to his room, shutting the door firmly behind himself. He sat in his favorite armchair and closed his eyes before accessing the connection.

_I'm in a quiet space. What do you want to know?_

_Oh, let's start easy. Age?_

_Thirty-five._

_I'm twenty-two. You're not put off by the age difference, are you? I'm not._

Remus hesitated. He hadn't been expecting this, but it wasn't the years that separated him that made him nervous. He could remember being that young and reckless, made worse due to the fact that he'd lost…

But no. That was then; this was now. And besides, Tonks was in her early twenties, wasn't she? She was mature enough.

_If you don't mind a bit of grey, I'm not._

_Good thing I don't, then. Your turn to ask a question._

Remus sighed a sigh of relief. He could do this, he told himself. Happiness was within his reach. All he had to do was keep up the courage to pursue it.

He wasn't going to mess this up.

_Favorite color?_

**A/N:**

**32\. Moon**

**834\. (relation type) soulmates**

**SF: Lazy River: magenta**

**NF: Waltzers: rose pink**

**EF: Pie Eating Contest: Blueberry: RemusTonks**


	4. Howls in the Night

**A/N: Hey y'all! Be warned, this is very dark. And if I continue it, it will be even darker. **

**Word Count: 485**

**WARNINGS: Implied character death, threats and blackmail, endangerment of a child**

**Enjoy!**

Bellatrix's eyes glowed as Potter was dragged in, unconscious and bleeding about the head. The dungeons were the perfect place for the widower, and Bellatrix couldn't wait to proclaim his wife and son dead to him—even though Lily Potter was the only one who had perished.

The witch hurried forwards, eager to get started. Potter must know where the Dark Lord had gone, and the wizarding world would assume him dead, that his body had been eaten up in the same explosion that had "killed" the Dark Lord.

But Bellatrix and the Lestranges knew better than to assume he was dead. They all knew better than to think their master so weak as to be mortal.

Bellatrix listened to the sound of the cell door locking and grinned. Potter would wake eventually, and when he did, she would extract her answers.

* * *

"I don't believe you."

Potter's words jarred her, and the manic light in her black eyes nearly faltered. She recovered quickly and locked gazes with the hazel-eyed man.

"You might wish it wasn't true, Potter, but it is," she simpered softly. "Your Mudblood wife" —she relished the indignant fire that flared in his eyes— "and your bouncing baby boy are _dead._" Bellatrix reached through the bars and lifted his chin; he was too weak to fight her. "You're alone."

"I'm not," Potter rasped. His glasses were dirty and cracked, but, Bellatrix admitted, he still cut an impressive figure. "My baby _is not dead._"

Bellatrix sneered. She had two options here: keep insisting the baby was gone and break Potter through grief, or admit the child was alive and hold his safety over the father's head.

The latter would be more quick, but it would also offer Potter hope.

So she settled on a mixture of both options.

"You're right," she said harshly. Then she sat back on her heels, releasing Potter's chin. "But he won't be for long." She peered at him through her curly, wild hair, her lips curving upwards. "Unless you talk."

It had the desired effect; Potter froze. Bellatrix just knew his mind was whirling, trying to decide if she really had his baby. Oh, these people that loved—they were so easy to manipulate.

Potter closed his eyes. "My friends will come for us both."

Bellatrix laughed, then. "By the time they realize you aren't dead, Potter—if they ever do—you'll have told us everything. Because you couldn't stand for us to harm your child, now could you?"

He was shaking in his grief, and _she loved it._

"Where's Lily?" he croaked. "Is she with Harry?"

Bellatrix stood in one fluid motion and walked towards the door.

"I wasn't lying about her, Potter," she said savagely. "You should be proud. The Dark Lord himself killed her. It was quite the honor."

She let the door shut behind her, but she still heard the man's howl of despair as she left him alone.


	5. Moonlight

**A/N: Hey y'all! So, I actually… really want to continue this. AliceNarcissaLucius. The longer version may be M, but I think this demo serves as a high T.**

**Word Count: 604**

**WARNINGS: There's some light sexual...ness… but not smut. Because we all know I don't write that. :P**

**Enjoy!**

Alice slipped into the bedroom quietly, her shadow long and dark in front of her. She ran a pale hand through her short-cropped brown hair, her eyes on the bed in the middle of the room. Two figures were sprawled across it, their lithe bodies tangled together and illuminated by the moonlight streaming in through the window. They turned to her when they heard the door open.

Silently, the woman held out her hand to Alice, and the Gryffindor hurried to take it. Once her fingers were laced with the woman's, a silky voice spoke.

"Welcome home, darling. We've missed you."

Alice melted into the woman's embrace, then addressed the man over the woman's shoulder. "And I've missed the two of you. Lucius, Narcissa… it's been too long."

Lucius carded his fingers through Alice's hair reverently, love and lust warring in his pale grey eyes. Alice didn't mind, but the lovemaking would come later. Right now, she just wanted to hold her two lovers.

The war prevented them from seeing each other. None of them were active participants, but they'd all been approached—by different sides. Alice didn't want to think of anything driving them apart for good, but she knew that the Malfoys would be unable to resist Voldemort's pull for long.

She tried not to care. But the truth was, that was something she could never condone, and if they took up the Dark Lord's services… she would leave them. Alive knew that Narcissa and Lucius were aware of the fact, and she hoped that their fear of losing her would be enough to make them stay. Even if… even if her abandonment was inevitable.

But until then, she would take every moment she had left with them.

Alice ran her fingers through Narcissa's soft blonde locks, enjoyed the sensation. Narcissa closed her eyes and tilted her chin up, exposing her neck. "Hmm." It was a beautiful noise that had escaped that pale throat. "Alice…"

And that was what Alice wanted. That whispered name, the tone that told her she was loved and needed. She pressed a kiss on Narcissa's jaw, then made eye contact with Lucius.

"Hold me," she requested quietly.

He dipped his head. "Of course."

Both women let him take them up in his arms, Alice between them both. They were all three clothed, which made Alice a bit hot due to their close proximity, but in that moment, she wouldn't change a thing.

After a few minutes of lying quietly, Lucius put a hand on Alice's waist. He leaned over her to press a kiss on her lips, and she responded enthusiastically.

After a few moments, Alice broke away, gasping. "I love you," she choked out. "I love you both."

Narcissa cupped her face in her hands and placed kisses all over Alice's round face. "We love you, darling. We love you so much."

Lucius, though was quiet. When Alice looked at him questioningly, he met her gaze with a determined glare. "I won't let them take either of you away from me," he growled. "I'll do whatever it takes to keep you both here."

Alice knew he was deadly serious. Her heart fluttered, full of love and passion and _need_. This was her family. She realized, then, that she needed to fight for them. If Lucius was willing to… so would she.

Alice buried her face in his long, blond hair. "So will I," she murmured.

Narcissa took Lucius' hand and then pressed her face against Alice's back. "As will I," she promised.

And it was there, even in the midst of a war, that Alice felt safe.


	6. Lead Us Out of the Darkness

**A/N: Hey y'all! This was written for THC and Hogwarts. Prompts are below. :)**

**Muggle Studies Task 2: Write about someone who feels/is trapped**

**Word Count: 1044**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Those rights go to JK Rowling.**

**THC:**

**House: Slytherin**

**Subject: Care of Magical Creatures**

**Category: Standard**

**Prompt: (character) Fenrir Greyback**

**Note: Written in third person omniscient, so it's not told from a single character's point of view.**

**WARNINGS: Controlling relationship, implied character death, minor language**

**Enjoy!**

Remus peered through the leaves and branches down at his father and Fenrir. He wasn't supposed to be in the tree—he knew that—but he couldn't resist the urge to eavesdrop.

Things had been strange ever since _that night_. For one, Hope Lupin had disappeared. Remus had asked his father where she was, but after a couple of months of watching his father struggle not to cry as he tried to come up with an answer, Remus stopped.

Remus climbed higher in the tree, trying to get a better view of the two men. They were arguing again, and he listened carefully as their voices drifted up to him.

"You've let me down, Fenrir. Again."

That was Lyall, his voice choked with emotion; Remus' five-year-old ears were able to pick up on the distress, but the subject of the squabble eluded him.

A cold, cruel laugh followed. "You can't play on my feelings. I don't have any."

"If that was true, Remus and I wouldn't be here right now." Lyall's shoulders were tensed, as though he expected a fight. "Fenrir… let us leave. This place will crush my boy's spirit. It's not good for him to live in isolation in a cabin in the middle of the woods!"

The statement must have amused Fenrir, because he grinned, revealing pointed teeth. "_Our_ boy, you mean. He lives with me now. He's _mine_."

Lyall's voice trembled. "He's not. You can't keep him here—it will kill him."

"No." Fenrir walked closer to Lyall, who stood his ground. "It will make him strong. I have no feelings for you any longer; I can see I'll never win back your affections. But the boy… Remus… I can mold him into the strong person he could never be under your thumb alone."

Remus lowered himself, curious, trying to piece together the meaning of what he was hearing. He knew they were talking about him, that they were upset with him somehow… he just couldn't figure out why.

"And you'll smother everything that makes him Remus until there's only bloodlust and hate left—just like what happened to _you_!"

Startled by the sudden shout—his father never raised his voice if he could help it—Remus reeled back—

And lost his footing.

Remus crashed through the branches and hit the ground hard. Winded, startled, and in pain, he began to cry. Lyall quickly recovered from his shock and rushed over.

"Remus! Remus, son, are you all right? Where does it hurt?"

And then Fenrir was there, and Remus wasn't sure if he wanted to run from the other man or embrace him; he never was, when Fenrir was involved. "Damn it, Lyall, wave your wand and fix his arm; it's broken."

Lyall hesitated, his arms still wrapped protectively around his child. To fix the arm would mean to place Remus in Fenrir's care, even for a moment. Lyall looked down at the little boy, a carbon copy of himself save for the amber eyes; those had been Hope's. But those eyes were filled with tears, and Lyall cursed himself for hesitating.

He anxiously let Fenrir take the boy, then retrieved his wand quickly from their little cabin. When he came back out, Remus was whimpering but calmer. Fenrir was soothing him gently, but there was a possessiveness to his touch that terrified Lyall.

"Aw, aren't you sweet, darling," Fenrir was murmuring. "So brave, too. Don't you worry; your daddy and I will take good care of you here." He looked up, and Fenrir's usually blue eyes looked violet in the light of the setting sun, making him look unnatural. He stared straight at Lyall. "We won't let you be hurt anymore."

Lyall shuddered. Without a word, he walked over to his son and fixed the broken arm with careful precision. He reached out to take the boy from Fenrir's grasp, but the werewolf stood and refused to relinquish him. Instead, he carried the boy inside and laid him down on the bed Lyall unfortunately shared with him.

Lyall sat on the edge of the mattress and let Fenrir grip his shoulder. Lyall wasn't a strong man or a brave one, but he knew which fights he couldn't win.

This style of life hadn't been what he'd envisioned for his son. He might have pictured something like this in the days when he'd loved Fenrir… but the consciousness of the wolf had swallowed that man whole, and Lyall loved Remus and Hope now.

Or… now, it was just Remus.

Maybe it was time to accept that he wasn't getting them out of here. What waited for Remus back in civilization? Hate and humiliation at the least. Death at the most.

As much as he regretted being the cause of this situation, he couldn't subject his child to those horrors. He'd get them out one day, Lyall promised himself. He wouldn't let Fenrir turn Remus feral.

It would take some getting used to, though… and Fenrir would be completely in charge of Remus on the full moons. It was a terrifying thought, but he didn't have much choice. This new life they were leading would be a difficult one, but Lyall was determined to make it as great as he could, for Remus' sake.

Speaking of, the little boy was staring up at his father expectantly. Lyall reached out to smooth the boy's hair from his face.

"Rest now, Remus," he murmured. His thumb brushed over the little paw print soulmark on his son's wrist as he grasped Remus' hands. He felt a pang of sadness; the soulmate bond may have been severed... just like his own bond with Fenrir had been twisted after the destruction of lycanthropy.

Lyall leaned forward as Remus' eyes drooped shut. He whispered into Remus' ear, "Just because I didn't get my fairy tale ending, doesn't mean you shouldn't." His breathing was ragged as he fought back tears. "Be brave, son. You're so strong already, but be _brave_."

Confused, Remus stared up at his father and opened his mouth to question him, but Lyall shushed him.

"Go to sleep," he instructed, so Remus did.

He didn't see the defeat in his father's eyes. He didn't see the sorrow.

Most of all, he didn't see his father's fear and Fenrir's triumphant smile.

**A/N:**

**WC: Assorted Appreciation: 28. "Aw, aren't you sweet, darling."**

**WC: Disney Challenge: D8. "Just because I didn't get my fairy tale ending, doesn't mean you shouldn't."**

**WC: Trope of the Month: 9. (word) style**

**WC: Space: 7. Write about someone displaying strength**

**WC: Book Club: Gene: (emotion) regret, (action) climbing a tree, (plot point) causing an injury**

**WC: Showtime: 12. (trait) obsessive**

**WC: Amber's Attic: 35. (color) violet**

**WC: Sophie's Shelf: 5. "You've let me down."**

**WC: Liza's Loves: 12. Write about someone trying to make a connection with another person**

**WC: Angel's Archives: 13. Write about a family starting a new life**

**WC: Scamander's Case: 1-2. (word) crush**

**WC: Bex's Basement: 11. "You can't play on my feelings. I don't have any."**

**WC: Film Festival: 3. (relationship) parent and child**

**WC: Marvel Appreciation: 12. Write about a family resemblance**

**WC: Lyric Alley: 20. My poor heart will only surrender**

**Stickers: Permanent: Standard Book of Spells: 6. Write about a character trying to get something or someone they want**

**Supermarket: 9. (era) marauders**

**Mythology: 1. (emotion) anxiety**

**Fortnightly: Frenzy: 13. (word) smother**

**What's Cooking: 17. (restriction) only male characters**

**Game Night: Left Hand: 2. Stopping an argument/Right Foot: 5. Wood cabin**

**365: 72. statement**

**Insane: 329. (action) taking a nap**


	7. Now We're a Family

**A/N: Hey y'all! Just some utter fluff for the adoption day prompt :)**

**Word Count: 912**

**Enjoy!**

Teddy waited in the car as the two men—Mr. Lupin-Black and Mr. Lupin-Black, which was confusing to Teddy—finished speaking with another group of adults. The slightly shorter man with wavy tawny hair kept glancing back at the car, shooting the five-year-old small grins. Teddy waved shyly back.

_Adopted_. He knew the word well; it was what all the little boys and girls in the foster home wanted. He'd learned that it was synonymous with _home_, and _family_, and _happy ending_.

Now it was happening to him. Teddy was too young to truly understand the implications, of course, or even why such a thing was sought after, but the excitement in the faces of the two men who'd come to pick him up was contagious.

Finally, the two men slid into the car, beaming at their new son.

"Hullo, Teddy," the amber-eyed one—Remus—said quietly. "We're going to go home now, okay?"

Teddy slid his small hands beneath his thighs and squirmed a bit; it was a nervous habit. "Okay." He hesitated a moment before asking, "Do I have to share my room?" He'd been in two foster homes; he'd only been with these two men for seven months. He wasn't sure how much was changing now that he was adopted.

The dark-haired man—Sirius—barked out a laugh. "No, kiddo. You've got it all to yourself." He twisted around in his seat to ruffle Teddy's hair, which was almost exactly the same shade as Remus'. "How does that sound?"

Teddy bobbed his head up and down, well conveying his excitement. "It sounds good!"

Another laugh followed his exclamation, and Teddy sat back in his carseat, pleased at having elicited such a reaction. Remus glanced at him through the rearview mirror, a smile on his lips. The scars on his face had startled Teddy when he'd first seen Remus, but he quickly grew to understand how gentle the man really was. Remus liked to read him books and take him to get hot chocolate in the mornings. He drove Teddy to school and picked him up in the afternoons.

Sirius was different, but still a lot of fun. Sirius worked most of the day, but he always came home to make dinner and play dinosaurs with Teddy. He liked to dance and sing loudly, and sometimes he even spun Teddy around as he did so.

It was fun. It was exciting. It was going to be his life now.

Remus drove slowly, talking about how they were all going to be a family. At one point, he glanced at Teddy and said softly, "You can call me Daddy, you know. If you want to."

Teddy sat up straighter at that, his blue eyes wide. "Really?"

Sirius reached back to pat his son's knee. "Sure thing, mate. I can be Pops."

Remus snorted, but Teddy was just beaming. He'd never had a proper dad before; now he had two. It was officially a _great day_.

They stopped briefly for ice cream (chocolate for Remus and Teddy, strawberry for Sirius), and then, before he knew it, they were pulling up to the house.

Teddy didn't dare venture out of the car. He knew this house, had even lived in it for seven months, but it was suddenly different. It was a little scarier. It was a little more exciting.

Luckily, though, Sirius seemed to sense his trepidation. With nimble fingers, he unbuckled Teddy and lifted the boy onto his hip. Then he threw and arm around Remus and pulled him close.

Remus' eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled, which always made Teddy want to smooth his face out. It had certainly made the two men laugh the first time he'd given into the temptation, anyway. Teddy resisted the urge, however, and wrapped his hand around three of the fingers Remus offered him. Together, they began to walk towards the house.

A kiss was pressed to Teddy's temple as they crossed the threshold, and pure joy bubbled up within him. He laid his head down on Sirius' shoulder, tuckered out from the day's events, which had been much more emotional than he was used to, but stubbornly trying to keep his eyes open. His new parents, though, weren't fooled.

Remus ran his fingers through Teddy's hair, humming softly. "Someone's sleepy," he murmured.

"'M not sleepy," Teddy protested through a yawn.

"No?" Sirius clucked his tongue. "Well, I am, kiddo. Want to keep me company while I try to fall asleep?"

He didn't wait for an answer, but Teddy nodded against his chest anyway. The two men walked into the master bedroom, where they laid down on either side of Teddy. The little boy burrowed beneath the blankets, not entirely sure why it felt so special when it wasn't the first time he'd slept with Remus and Sirius, but unwilling to question it. He buried his face in Remus' chest, and before long, he was asleep.

Remus' amber eyes sparkled with a joy Sirius (or anyone else, for that matter) had seldom seen on him.

"Padfoot," he breathed, looking down at Teddy. "We're… we're a family."

Sirius shuffled closer so he could wrap an arm around his husband. "We sure are," he whispered proudly. "And I couldn't have asked for a better one," he added quickly.

Instead of the eye roll and scoff Sirius was expecting, Remus leaned awkwardly around Teddy to peck his husband on the lips. "Neither could I," he told Sirius fondly. "Neither could I."


	8. Angels

**A/N: Hey y'all! Got some Wolfstarbucks for you. :)**

**Word Count: 1514**

**Note: This is a Charlie's Angels!au, but it doesn't follow the plot. Also, the boys go a little above and beyond the role of private investigators… because I can :P And who knows? Maybe when I continue this, I'll include how they all got together. But for now, that's up to you. :)**

**Enjoy!**

"Good morning, boys," a female voice crackled over the intercom. "I hope you're all ready for today."

"Good morning, Lily," the three men chorused. Sirius Black, James Potter, and Remus Lupin were each lounging in a chair, but they looked up attentively when their employer spoke.

Lily, her surname unknown to them, was a billionaire whose connections and friends—and their inventions—were often at risk. She'd hired Sirius, James, and Remus to retrieve items whenever they fell into the wrong hands.

James leaned back in his chair, his hazel eyes sparkling with mischief and anticipation of the chase. "What do you have for us today, love?"

An amused chuckle sounded, and James grinned. "Nothing you three can't handle. Nicolas Flamel has gone missing from his lab. He was developing what he calls the elixir of life, a way to slow the aging process. My sources suspect that Tom Riddle is behind the abduction."

Sirius snorted and dropped his head in his hands. "I hate that guy," he said with a long-suffering sigh. Then he lifted his head, his grey eyes locked onto the ceiling. "Where is he, then?"

"Sending coordinates now."

* * *

_Remus frowned as he drove down an isolated road, his heart thumping painfully in his chest. When he'd received a call praising him for his work as a private investigator, he'd been pleased to be offered a permanent job. He was less pleased about the obscure location. _

_His guard was up, but his curiosity kept him from turning back around and fleeing. _

_Eventually, he reached a house. It was bigger than anything he could have imagined, and the heavy tech protecting the area was like something out of a science fiction movie. It was over the top and utterly ridiculous for one person to guard their home so heavily. _

_His analytic mind was in heaven. The data available here… the technology in front of him… it was unlike anything he'd ever seen, and he itched to take it all apart and see how it worked. _

_But that wasn't what he'd been hired for. So Remus rolled up the iron gate surrounding the property and rolled down his window. He flashed his ID at a small camera. _

"_I'm Remus Lupin," he introduced softly. "A woman named Lily called—" The gate rumbled open, and Remus blinked. "Okay then," he muttered softly. His hands gripped the steering wheel tightly. "I guess I'm coming in."_

* * *

"I've got the coordinates," Remus confirmed. He glanced back at his two boyfriends, a tawny brow raised. "We'll take care of it, Lily. Come on, lads." He got to his feet. "We've got an elixir to retrieve."

Sirius smirked, and Remus' heart beat more rapidly; sometimes Sirius seemed dangerously attractive. Remus watched as he swaggered through a door towards his trademark bike and swung a leg over. Looking over his shoulder, he cocked a brow at Remus and James.

"I'm not doing this solo, am I?"

"No," James quippied, grabbing Remus' hand and dragging him towards a much more sensible car. "We were just waiting for you to stop showing off. Remus has the location, so make sure you follow us. We won't slow down if one of your fancy tricks gets you lost."

Sirius jammed a helmet over his head after tying back his long, black hair. "Always so critical, Prongs. At least Moony loves me."

Remus coughed and climbed into the car. "Get through this smoothly, Padfoot, and I might just confirm that."

Sirius crowed with delight, and Remus shared an amused look with James. Without further ado, the three took off, driving under the cover of night. Despite the darkness, James put on a pair of sunglasses as they drove away from Lily's manor, and the underground complex hidden beneath.

* * *

_Remus was escorted by a young, round-faced woman whose brown hair was cut close to her head. Her black stilettos clicked in a steady rhythm against the floor. She'd introduced herself as Alice._

"_I'm so glad you decided to join us, Remus," she said, glancing at him over her shoulder. "You're the last of the Angels to arrive."_

_Remus frowned sharply, halting in his tracks. "I'm the what?"_

"_Oh, don't worry." Alice's freckled face smiled kindly at him. "You're not late. The others just received their calls before you did."_

_Remus ran a hand through his hair, tugging at the curls. "I think I'm misunderstanding the situation," he said slowly. "I thought I was being hired as Lily's private investigator?"_

"_You are," Alice confirmed with a slight tilt of her head. "And so are the other two."_

_Remus blinked in surprise. Who in the world needed to hire three private investigators?_

_As though reading his thoughts, Alice took a step towards him and laid a hand on his arm. "All will be revealed in a moment, Remus. All we ask is that you trust us for a little bit longer."_

_He didn't know who the 'us' Alice kept referring to was, and he must have been mad to even consider it. But there was something here that went further than curiosity. Whatever this Lily person wanted, she needed the skills of three professionally trained people to achieve it. _

_This was big. This was important. He wanted a part in it._

_His amber eyes locked onto Alice's green ones. "Okay," he said softly._

_Alice beamed. "Wonderful. Follow me; we're nearly there."_

_Remus followed her to an elevator. To his surprise, she activated and screen and punched in a code too quickly for even his trained eyes to follow, giving them another option of destination. An option, Remus realized, that was below the ground floor. Alice pressed it. _

_When they stepped out of the elevator, Remus found himself standing in a tech heaven. There were rooms that were designed as living spaces, but Remus could see touch-screen desks and gadgets he couldn't begin to guess the function of. But Alice was leading him to two other men, both black-haired and tall. They stood when they heard him approach. Remus' breath caught in his throat, and he questioned how fair it was that he was in the presence of two such criminally handsome men. _

"_Sirius Black and James Potter," Alice told him with a nod towards each stranger. "I'll leave you get acquainted with each other. Lily will be in touch shortly."_

_Remus stood stiffly as Alice left them alone. He didn't feel like he was on even footing with James and Sirius, but he was determined not to let his nerves show._

"_Have either of you any idea why we've been called here?" Remus asked, walking over to sit on a sofa. He leaned back against the cushions and crossed his legs as he waited for an answer. _

_Sirius shrugged and plopped down beside Remus, so close that their thighs were touching. "Some billionaire wants to hire three smart, attractive men with similar training. One man like that should be sufficient; whatever work she has for us, it must be big."_

_Remus nodded. "I'd figured that."_

_James sat on Remus' other side, but at a respectable distance. "And we've figured that, since it's a three man team, I'm the brawn, Sirius is the distraction, so you must be the brains. Neither of us have a talent for computers, you see."_

_James tapped the gun holster strapped to his thigh as Sirius snorted. "It's like a cheesy movie plot, but one that no one can get enough of." Sirius grinned. "I love it."_

_Just then, the intercom crackled to life. "Hello, boys. You didn't quite hit the mark, but you're close enough that I'm impressed. Let me fill you in."_

_James stood, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "Who're you?"_

_Remus could almost hear the smile in the woman's voice. "Your employer. Call me Lily."_

* * *

Remus and James exited the car an hour later, Sirius pulling up on his bike. The three looked at Riddle's hideout, an unassuming building in a run-down part of town. None of them were fooled, though; it was a technologically advanced center and served as Riddle's headquarters. Getting in would be tricky, but Remus was confident in their abilities.

"Got a way in, Moony?" Sirius asked, snapping on shades darker than James'.

Remus pulled out a laptop. "I will in a moment. Don't separate from each other, and only confront those you have to." He glanced at Sirius. "I'm talking to you, Padfoot."

Sirius squawked in indignation as James chuckled and loaded his gun. "We're ready when you are, Moons."

Remus looked at his two lovers and grinned. "Get in costume, boys. The guards switch in ten minutes. You wouldn't want to miss it."

Sirius and James nodded in acknowledgment and disappeared into the night, leaving Remus only able to communicate with them through a headset.

He settled back into his seat, then hacked into the center's mainframe and pulled up a map of the building. Then he brought a hand to his ear and spoke to the others.

"Do you two copy?"

"We're all ears, Moons."

"Okay then." Remus flexed his fingers. "It's showtime."


	9. Light and Dark

**A/N: Hey y'all! This was written for Hogwarts. **

**Potions Task 2: Write about a person with a dazzling smile**

**Word Count: 1397**

**WARNINGS: Discussed character death, mentioned injury**

**Note: This is a Voldemort wins!au where the Potters, Sirius, and Peter are all dead. **

**A million thanks to Angela for beta-ing!**

**Enjoy!**

The wind was howling around him, but he wasn't cold. It struck him as odd, so he opened his eyes.

And found himself looking straight into the black eyes of Rabastan Lestrange.

Remus struggled to sit up, alarmed, but strong hands pushed him back down. "Don't," Rabastan said, his voice uncharacteristically gentle. "You're still healing."

Belatedly, Remus remembered that the full moon had been the previous night. He'd transformed in the Welsh countryside, far from human inhabitants—or so he'd thought. He looked Rabastan in the eye, his face unnaturally pale.

"Why am I here?"

_Why are you helping me?_ might have been a better question. Remus could feel the familiar scratch of bandages against his skin, and the smell of potions was thick in the air. This wasn't just a basic patch-up; time and care had been put into it.

Care wasn't supposed to come from Rabastan Lestrange—but then again, Remus didn't know the man personally, did he?

These were dangerous thoughts, thoughts he should not be having in the middle of the war.

Rabastan reached out to help Remus sit up a bit, and Remus took the opportunity to get a proper look of his surroundings. He was in a magical tent, the lavish decor giving away the wealth of its owner. The wind was raging outside—he could hear it—but it only rarely crept into the tent.

As grateful as Remus was for the warmth, he wanted answers. Luckily, Rabastan was prepared to give them.

"I think you're tired of this war, Lupin," he said quietly.

Remus' blood froze in his veins. His first instinct was to deny it; he was a soldier, a warrior, however expendable he may be—he didn't just surrender, much less to a Death Eater.

But he _was_ tired. James and Lily were dead, and Sirius and Peter had soon followed. Still, Voldemort seemed unstoppable, no matter how many casualties were laid at his feet. His reign was never ending, and sometimes Remus thought fighting against it was hopeless.

But then he thought of Harry, hidden away with Andromeda Tonks, and he reconsidered.

"If you think I'm going to just roll over and show you my belly, Lestrange, you've got another thing coming."

The bold words wreaked havoc on his throat, but he still jutted his chin out in defiance. He must look like a sorry creature, all bloodied and bruised, but he'd be damned if he looked like a dying one. He was scared, but defiant. He was physically weak, but spiritually strong.

He was a right mess.

"You didn't let me finish, Lupin." Rabastan walked over to the little kitchen area of the tent, and only spoke when his back was to Remus. "I think you're as tired of this war as I am."

Surprise flooded him, but he forced it away, kept it hidden. "What's that supposed to mean?" he asked, frowning.

Voldemort was winning. Rabastan and his family were _winning_. They had no right to be tired.

But now Rabastan was facing him, shoulders tensed and fists balled. "Wine?" he asked stiffly. He raised a bottle up for Remus' inspection, and after Remus' initial hesitation, Rabastan let out a small laugh. "I haven't poisoned it, Lupin."

Suddenly, Remus didn't care if it _was _ poisoned. He was sick of looking for betrayal where there wasn't any, and Rabastan had saved his life once already. "Pour it, then," he said tiredly, and Rabastan did.

Taking a sip from the glass offered to him a moment later, Remus discovered it was mulled wine—nothing more, nothing less. He drank deeply, relishing the warmth that filled him. He relaxed, but he wouldn't let his question go unanswered. "Why are you tired?"

Rabastan sat on the edge of the cot Remus was on, uninvited. Remus didn't shove him off. The Death Eater ran a hand over his face, and for the first time, Remus noticed the grey at the man's temples, despite the fact that he was twenty-five, a year older than Remus himself.

"Rodolphus is dead. The Order of the Phoenix killed him."

Remus' hand tightened around his glass. He was sympathetic, yes, because he knew what it was like to lose a brother. But he refused to apologize, because Rabastan had taken just as much—if not more—from him.

"And I lost the Potters, Black, and Pettigrew. What's your point?"

Rabastan looked at him, his head tilted to the side and something akin to wonder in his eyes. "They all thought you would be the easiest to break. And you are, but you haven't _stopped_."

Silence followed his statement. Remus felt torn open and exposed, but Rabastan was right. He was broken—so, so broken—but he still went forward. He still fought.

His voice was quiet when he next spoke. "What's your _point?_"

Rabastan drained the last of his glass, then poured himself another measure. "I was mad for a long time," he said at last. "I raged against the Order—I swore to slaughter every one of you, to avenge Rodolphus." Black eyes fixed themselves on Remus' amber ones. "But then I realized that it would be useless. There will always be people like you, to uphold the light. And there will always be people like me, trying to snuff it out."

Rabastan leaned forward, his face urgent. He seemed to need Remus to understand. "And then I felt tired, because what is the point of the battle if the opposites were never supposed to stand alone? Darkness and light has always coexisted. It always will. Fighting that… just kills people."

There were tears in Remus' eyes. He wasn't sure why he was crying, but… the older man's words had struck a chord. They'd reminded him how useless fighting was… and why it was so necessary.

"As long as people I love are threatened," Remus croaked, "I will fight."

Rabastan nodded. "I know," he muttered. "I know. Because I understand now. It's like day and night… even when darkness prevails, the stars and moon are shining." Rabastan reached out and grabbed Remus' hand, tracing the pad of his thumb over the myriad of scars. Remus was too shocked to retract his hand. "I want to be on the winning side."

Remus swallowed thickly. His head was spinning as he tried to process all this—he hadn't expected such eloquence or raw honesty from this man. And the words were honest, Remus knew. You couldn't fake the emotion that had choked Rabastan's voice.

"Why me?" he whispered instead of letting his thoughts run wild. "Why did you save me?"

In answer, Rabastan held up Remus' hand. The lighting made the scars stand out, and Remus winced despite himself.

"You know the necessity of coexisting."

And Remus remembered the words Sirius had whispered to him so long ago. _We all have light and dark inside us._

Rabastan hadn't quoted him, but he'd come pretty damn close.

But Remus wasn't a fool.

"There's more to it than that," he accused.

Rabastan dipped his head in acknowledgement. "You're right," he said, his voice rough. "There is."

The kiss that followed was searing in its forbiddenness, but that didn't stop it from feeling _right._ When Remus pulled back and saw the dazzling smile Rabastan wore, he knew he was doomed.

He was going to fall in love again… with a man who might be his undoing.

But that _smile._ Remus could tell that Rabastan knew he'd been welcomed, knew the kiss had been accepted. The smile was blinding, and it filled Remus with a warmth he seldom felt anymore.

Remus wanted again. He wanted to be needed; he wanted to feel wanted. The opportunity was right in front of him.

He grabbed it with both hands.

"Okay," he said. "Okay."

Now Rabastan was _beaming_. He pulled Remus to his feet, so, so gently, and tucked him firmly beneath his arm as he guided them out of the tent.

"We have to move," Rabastan warned. "They'll follow us."

"I know a safe place," Remus promised. Moving was painful, but Rabastan's protective arm around his shoulders made his discomfort seem trivial. Remus shuddered as they stepped outside, but not completely from the cold—it had been so long since anyone had sought to protect him.

It was a nice feeling.

He felt Rabastan shiver as he raised his wand to pack up the tent. When Rabastan pulled him closer, he didn't pull away.

**A/N: **

**Southern: Magical Mistletoe: RemusRabastan**

**Eastern: Advent Calendar: 8. Mulled wine**

**Northern: Winter Bingo: [94] (object) wine bottle**

**101\. Wealth**

**825\. (trope) huddled together for warmth**


	10. Make It Through

**A/N: Hey y'all! This was written for Hogwarts. Some Black brother love for you all.**

**Note: This is an AU where the brothers aren't estranged—Regulus didn't die, Sirius didn't go to Azkaban and is raising Harry. If you'd like a longer version, leave a review or PM and tell me! :)**

**Word Count: 782**

**Enjoy!**

"Come on, Harry, please." Sirius' voice reached Regulus' ears as he entered the flat. "Just… what do you want, kid? I've changed the nappy, fed and burped you—I don't know what else to do."

Regulus winced as he heard the desperation in his older brother's words, barely audible above the wailing coming from the flat's newest inhabitant. It seems he was right to drop by; Sirius didn't seem to be handling his newfound guardianship well. Though, to be fair, parenthood was difficult enough _without_ the mourning Sirius was doing.

James and Lily Potter's deaths were still hard to come to terms with. He couldn't imagine how Sirius must be feeling.

Regulus walked into the sitting room, where Sirius was still attempting to negotiate with a screaming infant. The noise was awful, but Regulus, regretfully, had to add to it.

"Sirius?" he called. "Need some help?"

Sirius' head whipped around, his wand appearing from seemingly nowhere. Regulus wasn't surprised; they'd all had difficulty adjusting to life after the war. Some old reflexes were a small side effect.

When he realized who was there, Sirius closed his eyes and lowered his wand. Silently, he nodded.

Regulus came over and picked up baby Harry, very awkwardly, seeing as he had less experience than Sirius with children. Still, he held the little boy's head carefully against his shoulder and bounced up and down, shushing the child. It took a few minutes, but Harry was lulled to sleep.

Sirius' grey eyes were staring at him in shock. "How did you do that?"

Regulus shrugged. "You've been too stressed to calm him down properly, I suspect. He can pick up on that, you know."

Sirius' shoulders slumped. "Reg," he whispered, "I think I'm bloody miserable at this."

Regulus looked at his brother with raised brows. Sirius hadn't been his bright, bubbly self as of late, but that was hardly surprising. There were bags under his eyes, his skin was paler than usual, and he'd ordered quite a bit of take-away by the looks of things. He was in a baggy t-shirt and sweatpants and his hair was pulled haphazardly away from his face, some of the blacks strands sticking out in odd places, which was odd because Sirius never went anywhere without looking his best.

But Regulus' knew there was a crib in his brother's bedroom, plenty of healthy food in the cupboards, and an abundance of warm clothes and nappies. Harry Potter was being well taken care of.

"Actually, you've done really well," Regulus murmured. "I'm more concerned about you, Sirius."

Sirius' brow furrowed. "What? Why?"

Regulus gently placed Harry in the cot in the corner of the room before responding. "You're being too hard on yourself. You keep comparing yourself to James and Lily, and though I know they would have been wonderful parents… you have to do this your way. You're not James and Lily, Sirius. You're Harry's godfather and guardian, and they gave you that role because they knew you could handle it."

After a moment of silence, during which Sirius just stared at him, the older man ran his hands through his hair shakily, dislodging even more pieces. "I want to do this right, but… I've never really been the settling down type, you know? I have a motorbike, too many leather jackets, and I go to the pub multiple times a week."

"And since getting custody of Harry?" Regulus prompted.

Sirius closed his eyes. "I sold my bike and got a car," he admitted. "I don't think I've showered in two days. I sure as hell haven't been drinking."

He smiled softly at his brother. "There you have it, Sirius. You're more responsible than you think."

Sirius sighed, then nodded. He sent Regulus a small smile. "Thanks," he said hoarsely.

Regulus nodded. "Now, you go shower and rest—I'll watch him for a bit." Sirius looked like he was about to protest, so Regulus held up a hand. "Just because you're his guardian doesn't mean you have to do this alone. I'm not much good with kids," he admitted, "but I'll be here for you when you need me."

Sirius stared at him for a moment, and Regulus realized that there were tears in his brother's eyes. Sirius cleared his throat. "Thanks, Reg."

Regulus reached out to squeeze his brother's shoulder. "We'll get through this," he promised.

He wasn't sure if Sirius believed him yet, but he was determined to get them through this. They were a family, and they'd work through every obstacle together. Sirius got up to shower, leaving Regulus alone with the sleeping babe. He looked over at the dark-haired child.

"You'll be all right," he whispered. "You both will."


	11. Call My Name

**A/N: Hey, y'all! Have some FenrirLyall. Hella angsty. I'm so sorry. But like… I really want to make this longer one day and explore this concept. So let's hope this makes sense. XD**

**Religious Education Task 2: Write about a heavy snowfall.**

**Word Count: 2018**

**WARNINGS: Mentioned character death, blood, heavy angst. Because werewolves. **

**Thanks to Lucy for beta-ing!**

**Enjoy!**

The half-collapsed cabin wasn't much of a shelter, but it kept Fenrir out of the wind. It was good enough.

Outside, snow continued to fall. He wasn't sure how long the storm had been going on, but the sounds of the mighty winds were enough to make him glad he'd found this place. It wasn't perfect—he was still freezing, despite the blanket around his shoulders and the fire in front of him—but it was better than being caught in the blizzard.

The wind howled again, and Fenrir shivered. Not for the first time, he longed for his wand to cast some sort of heating charm. Unfortunately, it had snapped the night he'd been bitten, crushed beneath the monstrous weight of the werewolf.

Fenrir pitied the person now, whoever they'd been. Three years as a werewolf, and he knew the pain of transformations and the slow slipping of his insanity well.

That was the true reason for his isolation. These days, the wolf—the voice in his head, his second soul—bled to the forefront of his mind with terrifying ease. He'd begin talking as Fenrir Greyback, blink, and then realize that he was someone else entirely. If he was alone… no one could get hurt.

He pulled the blanket tighter around his shoulders and stared into the flickering flames that were contained by a bucket. One night at a time. He just had to make it through one night at a time.

Fenrir's eyes grew heavy. For a while, there was nothing but the deafening howling of the wind outside, but then—a faint cry. Someone was shouting.

Fenrir got to his feet, his heart beating wildly. If this was the Aurors, then he had to go _now_. But if it wasn't… then whoever was mad enough to face this storm must be desperate for something.

Fenrir squinted through the darkness and snow. His blue eyes swept the area, and after a few minutes passed, he could make out a dim silhouette.

Indecision gripped him; should he leave now in case this stranger was coming for his neck, or should he stay and help someone who might be in trouble? Years ago, the choice would have been easy to make, but Fenrir had met other werewolves during his nomadic wanderings. He knew the sorts of horrors the Ministry liked to reserve for anyone they considered _less than._

The person was approaching steadily, though, and Fenrir found that his feet wouldn't move. Humanity had won out this time, it seemed. He tried not to feel too bitter about that.

After what felt like centuries, the stranger reached the cabin. Fenrir realized with a jolt that the man wasn't wearing his coat—it was thrown over the man's shoulder protecting a bundle that Fenrir couldn't see properly.

It was dark enough that Fenrir couldn't make out the stranger's face, but the man didn't seem to have any qualms about approaching him. For a moment, the two men merely stared at each other, waiting for the other to reveal himself first. Finally, the man reached a shaking hand into his pocket and pulled out a wand.

"_Lumos._"

Light filled the area, and Fenrir stumbled back. His guard was up again; wizards and werewolves didn't mix, he'd discovered.

The man held his wand up, and Fenrir didn't quite shield his face in time before the light illuminated his features. There was a beat of silence, and then—

"Fenrir?"

Time seemed to slow. He knew that voice—he hadn't heard it in so long, but it was impossible to forget. His mouth went dry.

"Lyall?"

Fenrir's heart thudded in his chest. How many nights had he longed to hear Lyall say his name? How much further had the chasm between them deepened? To see him now, when Fenrir was at his lowest, was bittersweet at best. But Fenrir didn't fear Lyall.

"Come inside," he called out. "It's not much warmer, but it's out of the wind."

The other man looked immensely relieved, and Fenrir felt stung. He wondered how much the Ravenclaw had expected him to change since his bite. Although, Fenrir couldn't pretend that he was the same person he'd been when he'd loved Lyall Lupin.

Once they were seated around the meager flames, he turned to the wizard. Lyall's hands were still holding the bundle to his chest, and Fenrir looked at him curiously. Lyall's blue eyes caught his gaze and Fenrir watched as the man blushed. Slowly, he removed the coat over the bundle, revealing…

Fenrir leaned back against the cabin wall, his eyes staring resolutely at the ground. He scoffed. "Got married, then, did you?"

A strangled sound escaped Lyall's lips, and Fenrir looked up to see the anguish written across the other man's face. "I… I was." Lyall looked at the little boy in his arms, pale and shaken. "His mother… she… I couldn't save her."

There were no words to explain the sick swoop of his stomach as he pieced together the reason behind Lyall's visit.

"It wasn't me," he snapped, jumping to his feet. It made sense now—the fear in Lyall's eyes, the way he carefully held his son away from Fenrir, the reason he'd sought him out at all. "I didn't kill her," he said, though he very well might have; the thought made him sick, "and I can't find whoever did!"

Lyall's blue eyes were panicked, and Fenrir cursed himself because he _knew_ what wizards thought when werewolves raised their voice. He was painfully aware that Lyall was the only one of them with a wand—and he knew how skilled Lyall was with his.

He was backed into a corner, and he winced as he thought about what this act of revenge would be to the world: nothing worth noting, not even murder. Just one less monster breathing.

"That's not what I want!" Lyall shouted. His eyes were wide, and the boy on his shoulder stirred. The child was pale and looked half-frozen; Lyall tried not to look too closely, afraid of the resemblance the kid might bear to his father. "Fenrir, that's not why I'm here."

He should be relieved, but to his dejection, he realized that he couldn't quite believe Lyall. The facts weren't measuring up right. "Then _why?_" His hands balled into fists. Anger was replacing his fear; he was so tired of being afraid. So tired of being afraid of the people he used to love. "I loved you for years, and then I was reduced to—to _this_"—he spat out the word, disgusted with himself—"and I was suddenly nothing to you. Why have you come seven years later, if not to kill me?"

He laughed, but there was no mirth in the sound. It was as empty as he felt. "I remember what you said," he told the other man hollowly. "_Soulless, evil, deserving nothing but death._ I can't avenge your wife. I can't bring her back, or protect you, or any such bullshit. And you _know_ that, so why did you come?"

Lyall's voice was small—it didn't suit him. "I didn't know where else to go." Tears were forming in his eyes, and Fenrir didn't know where to look. The strongest man he knew was falling apart right in front of him. "We were—we were in our home, a small house in Cardiff last month… my son was in bed…"

Fenrir began to feel uneasy. He'd been in Cardiff that month, and a terrible, terrible thought began worming its way into his mind…

How much of his memory had the wolf stolen?

"I don't know how it got in."

Fenrir winced. _It_. A word he heard all too often these days.

"And then Hope… she… Merlin." Lyall's mouth snapped shut, his face ashen. Fenrir's chest constricted. It was difficult to stand there and watch Lyall's anguish—even though the years apart had separated them—but he knew how any attempt to comfort would be received.

A shuddering breath in, and then the other man continued. "She was so brave. Hit it across the back with the fire poker before I got there, knocked it off of… but then it… and she was. She was gone."

Fenrir's eyes locked onto Lyall's, panic gripping him. He remembered the morning after that night, remembered waking up with a new scar across his back and blood in his mouth. He'd thought it was a deer—he'd eaten plenty of deer. But there was one more vital part of the story. "Knocked it…" He cleared his throat. "Knocked it off of what?"

Lyall let out a dry sob, and Fenrir knew.

The boy was sleeping against his father's shoulder, too pale, tawny hair dampened with sweat… he looked so small. He remembered that fever that plagued him the days after his first full moons. He recognized that sickness.

Fenrir balled his fists, bit his lip, clenched and unclenched his jaw. He'd bitten a child. He'd bitten a child who couldn't be more than five, who'd miraculously survived their first moon. Suddenly, Fenrir couldn't see anything but the boy. He couldn't hear anything beyond his own labored breathing. Horrified. He was _horrified_. He'd committed an irreversible sin.

"I can't take him in," he told Lyall harshly, trying desperately to place the guilt somewhere else. "I can barely feed myself. You'll have to find someone else."

His heart was beating wildly, and he tore his eyes away from the boy. He'd alienated this child from his family. There was no doubt in his mind that the Ravenclaw was trying to give the boy up; Lyall had proven long ago that he could never love a werewolf.

His arms tightened around his son. "I don't want to let him go!" he practically growled. "I want—I want you to take us _both_ in."

"What?"

Lyall's shoulders slumped. He brought a hand up and dragged it tenderly along his son's cheek, impossibly gentle. "I know what I said," Lyall whispered. "But… but Remus isn't those things." He lowered his head. "And I realized… maybe you aren't, either."

A scoff escaped Fenrir before he could stop it. "It's a little late for that apology," he hissed.

"I know. But I'm _begging_ you—you understand this, Fenrir. You know what it's like, and you know how to avoid detection." He looked back over at the werewolf, desperation coloring his voice and features. "You're Remus' best shot. I can help with money… but I can't raise him on my own."

He almost said no. This boy—Remus—represented his transition from man to monster. Fenrir wanted to be as far away from him as possible. He wanted to pretend that he'd never held this child between his jaws—that he'd never torn apart his mother.

But then Remus stirred. His eyes fluttered open, glassy with fever, and Fenrir was startled to realize that they were amber; not inherited from Lyall, then. In fact, they looked much like Fenrir's did. And for a moment, just a moment, Fenrir let himself wonder _what if_.

Lyall never had to know that he was the one who'd ripped the rug from under their feet. He didn't have to know that Fenrir was slowly losing his mind, didn't have to know that this wasn't safe. He didn't have to know that Fenrir was more wolf than man these days. They could all pretend. Fenrir would help protect the boy, teach him how to escape the worst pains of the transformations, and he could finally be with Lyall again. He could have that piece of himself back.

Lyall Lupin would no longer be the one who got away.

It was the closest Fenrir would ever get to a family.

He looked back at Lyall, who was watching him worriedly. _He'd never have to know_.

A quick nod from him was all that Lyall needed. The wizard sagged with relief, looking like the world had just been lifted from his shoulders.

Outside, the snow continued to fall. Flake by flake, it covered Lyall's footprints, leaving only a smooth surface in their place. Erasing every trace that he and his son had ever been there at all.


	12. Transparency

**A/N: Hey y'all! Ghost!AU Wolfstar.**

**Word Count: 770**

**WARNINGS: Death, implied child abuse**

**Enjoy!**

"Is it easy?"

Remus glanced over at where Sirius was lounging on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. He frowned sharply. "Is what easy?"

Sirius bit his lip before answering. "Being a ghost."

That wasn't the question Remus had been expecting. For a split second, memories flooded him—memories of being trapped in this house as a servant centuries ago, until his untimely death in the same attic Sirius occupied. For years, Remus had watched Sirius grow up, becoming less and less like the Blacks he'd had to serve. This past summer, he'd finally been comfortable enough to reveal himself to Sirius; the sixteen-year-old seemed different from the rest of his family, and Remus had thought he needed the company.

He never guessed what a strong friendship would follow, but he wasn't disappointed.

"No," he said slowly. "It isn't easy. It's lonely, and it can be a bit dull." He hesitated, then confessed, "But it is better than when I was living. I have you now, and I'm not..." He trailed off. He suspected that Sirius had guessed at the way he'd been treated in life; the scowl on Sirius' face confirmed that theory.

"Why..." Sirius' voice was small. "Why didn't you ever leave? Surely there are other places you'd like... or have you traveled the world already?"

A flicker of a smile crossed Remus' face. How he wished he could say he had! He'd always wanted to leave England and see what the rest of the world had to offer. But alas... "A ghost is stuck in the place they died until their unfinished business is completed. Then they have the choice of whether or not to move on," he explained patiently.

"Oh." Sirius rolled over onto his stomach and peered critically at Remus. "What's your unfinished business?"

"I don't know," Remus admitted. "I've been here a long time, though. I think..." The words were like bile in his mouth. "I think I may have missed my chance."

"I'm sorry," Sirius said. His voice was so sincere, so hurt for his friend. He twisted a strand of black hair around his finger, then blurted out guiltily, "I'm sort of glad. Because—" He took a shuddering breath, then hurried on. "Because I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't come to me this summer."

A small smile covered Remus' scarred face. "I'm glad, too," he assured Sirius. Sirius answered with a grin, and Remus tried to ignore the voices in his head asking him what he would do when Sirius went back to school, and, eventually, moved out.

"Remus?"

"Yes?"

Sirius took a deep breath. "Do you like it here?"

Remus cocked his head to the side, his tawny curls falling across his forehead. "I like being with you. Of course I do."

"I mean..." Sirius seemed to flounder for the right words. "Do you like being in this house?"

No. No, he didn't. But there wasn't any way he could change his fate.

"As long as you're here, Sirius, I can stand this place."

Sirius frowned, but he didn't say anything else.

.o.O.o.

"I can't go," Sirius gasped out as Remus gaped at him. "I can't—you said you hate it here. I can't just leave you."

"No." Remus swallowed thickly. "No, Sirius, you need to go. You can't stay here with them—not for me. You'd break my heart, Sirius. Please."

There was hesitation in those grey eyes, but Remus, for once in his life, was forceful.

"If I have to come back to life to drag you through that fireplace, so help me Sirius, I will. You're hurt, and it's the Potters who will help you."

"But what about you?" Sirius sounded so lost and alone. And Remus realized... he realized that as much as it hurt to let Sirius go, it was worth it to know that he'd given Sirius friendship. He'd made this house bearable for Sirius, just as Sirius had done for him. And even if he had to spend eternity alone, it would be comforting to know that he'd made a difference.

He told Sirius all of this. "Your parents will be back soon," Remus whispered. "Go now. I'll wait for you, Sirius... because I have to believe that we'll meet one day."

It took a minute of silence, but Sirius nodded. "I'll see you again," he promised. "And Remus... I'll never forget you."

Not for the first time, Remus wished that he could embrace the other boy. "And I'll always remember you," he swore in a whisper.

And then, in a flash of green flames, Sirius was gone.


	13. Where the Stars Won't Shine

**A/N: Hey, y'all! As you all probably know by now, I'm kind of a sucker for royalty!aus… especially when they're Wolfstar. Anyway, I'd love to make this into a full-blown fic one day if anyone is interested! Let me know by review or PM. :)**

**Word Count: 661**

**WARNINGS: Mentioned incest (Black family stuff. Nothing graphic), loveless marriage**

**Enjoy!**

The stars always seemed to taunt Sirius. And yet, he couldn't stay away.

Every night, he slipped out of bed, careful not to wake Bellatrix. His wife—his _cousin_—never liked him, but she loved the position their marriage had given her. And even though the union had been made to keep the family's bloodline pure, Sirius resented the role he'd been required to play.

So he escaped to the balcony every night. He'd stare up at the stars, so far away. He longed for the freedom they promised—longed to see them reflected in amber eyes, which was the only place Sirius had ever felt free.

Amber eyes, a wide grin, cheeks that were dimpled, freckled, and scarred—this was the face Sirius wanted to hold in his hands. This was the man he wanted sleeping beside him.

Every night, he wished for Remus Lupin. Every night, he returned to bed with a heavy heart.

Tonight, however, Sirius didn't gaze up at the stars. He just sat with his back against the railing, his grey eyes shut as he tried to picture his lover's face. It had been so long since he'd seen Remus that he feared he was forgetting the details.

Curly, tawny hair that was never combed but so soft to the touch. Slightly crooked teeth, and a scar slicing through his upper lip. A quick, biting sense of humor and a voice heavy with sarcasm. Those were the things he remembered about Remus.

But what had Remus' touch felt like? Sirius tried to recall, tried to summon the ghosts of Remus' hands on his face, his neck, his chest, but failed. Sirius tried to remember each quirk of Remus' brow, each signifying a different emotion, but couldn't. He tried to remember how Remus' lips had felt against his, but the memory was faint. _Powerless._

Sirius missed the passion. He missed the heat, the fighting, the cuddling, the feeling that their love was invincible.

But it hadn't been. He'd been too afraid of the consequences he'd suffer if he didn't marry Bellatrix. Horrible visions of Remus, beaten and bloody, had filled his mind and fueled his nightmares until he left. But now, trapped in a marriage he'd never wanted… he'd have rather been on the run with the man he loved. It would have been a difficult journey, but they'd have faced each challenge together.

Sirius opened his eyes and looked back into the bedroom where Bellatrix was still fast asleep. He'd be expected to produce an heir with her soon. His family—his country—demanded it.

But then what? He would not be allowed to actually raise the child himself. He would be permitted to play the role of distant disciplinarian, nothing more. The child would have the same relationship with him as he had with his father.

His stomach twisted; the last thing he wanted was to bring a child into such a cold, unloving environment. And there was no universe that Bellatrix could be considered _motherly_.

But… there was one man that Sirius was sure would make an excellent father. A child, adopted or not, would be lucky to have Remus to turn to.

The problem was, if he abdicated the throne now, he'd be surrendering it to Bellatrix. He couldn't leave his people to suffer at her hands.

But… there might be a way to bring Remus into the castle. There might be a way to raise a child away from his family's toxic influence.

There might be a way to have a child with Remus, not Bellatrix.

Sirius glances once more up at the stars. Somewhere in the city, Remus was fast asleep. It had been many months since they'd seen each other… but Sirius hoped he'd accept the plan that was beginning to take root.

Though he tried to smother it, Hope was beginning to blossom in his chest. Sirius couldn't help but think as he walked back to bed that freedom was finally—_finally_—within his reach once more.


	14. Beneath the Waves

**A/N: Hey, y'all! So… this is a Wolfstar merman!au, bc what sort of AU writer would I be if I didn't write one?**

**Word Count: 1009**

**Enjoy!**

Sirius rowed out onto the black lagoon, determined to reach his destination despite the heavy rain around him. He was fuming; he wouldn't marry any of the women his parents presented to him, no matter how pressing the issue of an heir grew.

Somewhere, freedom awaited him. Somewhere, he wouldn't have to suffocate under his parents' rule. He wouldn't have to be unhappy for the sake of others.

Somewhere, nobody knew the name Black.

Sirius shook his long, black hair, but it stuck to the side of his face, heavy with water. He squinted through the rain, but it was impossible to see before him. He felt a rush of fear; maybe he should turn back. Maybe this rage-fueled idea hadn't been a good one.

He wanted to escape, not to drown.

The rain came down harder. Sirius called out, but his voice was lost in the wind. The waves picked up around him, and he yelped as the oars were ripped from his hands. This was a problem. This was a _very big _problem.

Lightning flashed across the sky, and Sirius gripped the edge of the boat in terror. He was going to fall, he realized with horror. He was going to fall into the water, and swimming lessons had never been on his parents' priority list.

He wasn't going to survive this storm.

That was his last thought before he fell overboard.

Blackness surrounded him, and icy water knocked any breath he might have had from his lungs. Sirius thrashed, desperate, but he couldn't tell which way was up and which way was down. His grey eyes were blown wide with terror, and he only had time to regret that he hadn't been able to say goodbye to his brother before he felt unconsciousness coud his mind.

But then—a flash of light in the darkness. A brilliant blue streak, cutting through the black water. And it was coming straight for Sirius.

He didn't even have the energy to be afraid.

Just as the darkness claimed him, he felt something wrap around his chest and _heave_.

* * *

Something was tapping his cheek.

That was the first thing Sirius registered. He wanted to ignore the touch at first, but it grew more and more insistent. Finally, he cracked his eyes open.

"Oh, thank goodness," an unfamiliar voice murmured. "I was afraid you were gone."

Sirius groaned, unsure whether he was able to speak. "'M not," he managed at last. He tried to make out the person in front of him, but their face was cast in shadow. "Who're you?"

There was a hesitant pause. "Remus," the voice said at last. "Your boat capsized."

That got Sirius' attention. He squinted at the person before him, struggling to sit up. "Did you—did you save me?" he asked, some of his memory rushing back.

Remus nodded. "I couldn't let you die," he said softly.

Then Sirius sat up at just the right angle to allow light to splash across Remus' face, and his breath caught in his throat. Kind amber eyes were staring down at him, and Sirius took a moment to admire curly brown hair that he suspected was only so dark because it was wet and an adorably freckled face.

He was well-aware of how he must look—sopping wet, his hair a tangled mess—a drowned rat would make a better impression on this man. But he was Sirius Orion Black, and he'd flirt anyway.

"Well, I suppose it's good that I had an angel looking out for me." He flashed Remus a grin, his near-death experience now completely worth it.

Remus tilted his head to the side, his brow furrowing as though he was confused. "Oh, no, I'm not an angel. They rarely come down here, you know." He helped Sirius into a sitting position and nodded at himself. "My lower half is usually fairly self-explanatory."

There was a hint of mischief in those amber eyes that only made Sirius feel even more in love, but it prompted him to look at Remus' lower half.

And _holy hell._

"You…" Sirius swallowed thickly. "You've… well, shit."

Remus smiled regretfully at him, nodding slowly. "You're stunned," he observed.

Who wouldn't be? Attached to the very attractive man before Sirius was a long, elegant, blue-scaled tail. All of a sudden, fairy tales were real. All of a sudden, Sirius couldn't breathe.

But Remus was backing into the water, preparing to leave the—Sirius looked around, taking in their surroundings for the very first time—cave off the lagoon. And maybe this was uncharted territory for Sirius, but he was strangely attached to Remus already. Somehow, he knew without a doubt that letting Remus swim away would be a mistake.

"Wait!" Sirius reached a hand out to Remus, and the merman—bloody hell, they were real—stopped and raised his brows.

"I…" Sirius floundered for something to say, something to make Remus stay. "I don't know how to get back home," he settled on eventually; it wasn't even a lie. "Can you help me?"

"The cave opens up to the beach," Remus informed him kindly. "Now, I'm sorry but I need to get going."

"Please don't go," Sirius said, biting his lip. "I… I…"

He didn't know what to say. What could he say to make this person—this mysterious wonder—stay?

"It's better if you don't tell anyone you saw me," Remus advised him. "They won't believe you."

"But will I see you again?" Sirius called out desperately as Remus began to sink below the water. All he could focus on was his desire to see this man again. He didn't know what it was about Remus, but the man had appeared just as he'd wished for freedom—that couldn't be a coincidence, could it?

Surprise crossed Remus' face. He stared at Sirius curiously—no, _longingly_—for a second before shrugging his bare shoulders. "Maybe someday," was all he said before sinking below the waves.

Sirius watched him shoot out of the cave and out into the lagoon. Determination began to fill him; he wouldn't let this opportunity to slip past his fingers.


	15. Into the Unknown

**A/N: Hey, y'all! Here's a little Wolfstar Tarzan!AU that I'd love to finish one day... **

**Word Count: 679**

**Enjoy!**

Remus stumbled over tree roots, cursing softly as his boots caught on the uneven ground—his mother would have smacked him upside the head if she'd been able to hear him. The only nice thing about the jungle, Remus thought bitterly, was the complete privacy. That, and the research he was able to conduct on primates; it was the whole point of his expedition, after all.

Still, the thrill of seeking new knowledge wasn't quite enough to drown out how lonely he felt; he was a stranger amidst a crew of friends, the only scholar among them. He knew that they thought him strange and incapable, but in all honesty, Remus was used to being considered odd by others.

It wasn't easy, but he was used to fending for himself. Maybe not in a jungle thousands of miles from civilization, but Remus was sure he could handle a few… months.

He felt a stinging on his arm and dropped some of the many notebooks he was lugging around in an attempt to swat whatever insect had just bitten him. He groaned as papers fluttered everywhere, cursing his luck.

"'It'll be just like a vacation,' they said," he grumbled as he knelt down. "'You need to get out of the office,' they said. Well, here's what _I_ say—"

A rustle nearby interrupted his angry rambling. Remus looked up, his amber eyes wide and startled, and anxiously looked in the direction of the noise. If it was some sort of wild animal, he had almost no hope of fending it off; not for the first time, he questioned his decision to leave the crew back at camp.

But it wasn't an animal at all.

Remus gaped as a man wearing criminally little emerged from the vegetation. Remus felt his face flush as he took the stranger in, his eyes roaming over large muscles and finally too a strong-jawed face. Grey eyes and shoulder-length black hair were also notable features.

Remus swallowed thickly.

The man tilted his head to the side. When he spoke, his voice was deep, slow, and hesitant. "Hello?"

"Hello," Remus responded immediately, scrambling to his feet. More papers flew from his arms, and he'd give anything to stop tripping over himself in the presence of this man. He clumsily shifted his books to one arm and stuck his arm out. "Hello, hello, it's nice to meet you. My name is Remus Lupin—" He stopped himself and took a breath. "And who might you be?"

The man looked at Remus' hand confusedly. "I am Sirius," he said after a moment. Then, a wide grin overtook his features. "Welcome!"

Quick as a flash, Sirius had gathered all of Remus' papers and was holding them out to him proudly. Remus took them numbly, too shocked to even say thank you.

The questions _how_ and _why_ flew through Remus' mind. One thing was clear: This man had never seen an English town. He had a thick, unnameable accent, and he spoke with great care, almost as if he'd just picked up the language. Remus wondered, indeed, if Sirius had picked it up in the month he and the crew had been camped in the jungle.

But then, Sirius would have had to have grown up here, in the wilderness, and that didn't seem possible.

Until Remus remembered the newspaper clipping that his father had always raved about; the one about the sinking of the illustrious Black family's ship sinking near the very island Remus was standing on now. In fact, it had been his father's fascination with this place that had urged Remus to choose it for his expedition.

It seemed that the Blacks had survived after all, but their son clearly hadn't become the well-bred aristocrat their family was famous for producing. _Sirius_.

Remus _itched_ to know how this man had survived for so long alone—and indeed, if he was the person Remus suspected he was.

He ran a hand through his sweat-dampened, tawny curls. "Thank you," he choked out. He wondered what in the world he was supposed to do next.


	16. Nothing to Say

**A/N: Hey, y'all! Yet another Wolfstar that I'd like to finish one day. This is a Remus never went to Hogwarts!au, so be aware of that. ;)**

**Word Count: 510**

**Enjoy!**

"So… I may have accidentally invited a werewolf to live with us."

James froze when he heard Sirius' words, his hands still hovering over one of the pots he was trying to wash. "Sorry, what?"

"You heard me." Sirius walked over to James, only slightly sheepish. In fact, if James didn't know better, he'd say his friend was _excited._ "He can share my room, of course. And he works, too, so he can pull his own weight."

James blinked, trying to banish the image of a wolf in a lab coat from his mind. As much as he tried, sometimes the wizarding world's most harmful stereotypes were still at the front of his mind; it filled James with the deepest shame to know that about himself, and he was doing everything in his power to fix that. Still, werewolves were different from Muggleborns.

His hazel eyes squinted with his unease, and he adjusted his glasses on his face as he regarded Sirius—his friend wouldn't just invite someone dangerous into their home. "And… who is this person?"

"Remus Lupin," Sirius replied promptly. "I know what you're thinking James, but trust me… he's a good person. He wears really big jumpers, likes to read, makes the best tea… He works in a _bookstore, _for Merlin's sake. He isn't dangerous at all, save one night a month."

James lifted a brow. He had a sneaking suspicion that Sirius was holding something back. "You know quite a bit about him. Something you're not telling me?"

"...He has good taste in music?"

"_Sirius._"

"Fine! I may or may not have been trying to ask him on a date when his living situation came up—don't ask me how, I still haven't figured it out—and I just… he's being discriminated against, James." Sirius' grey eyes pleaded with him. "His rent is higher than it should be, and he never shows it, but I know he's worried." Sirius ran a hand through his hair. When he next spoke, his voice was rough. "He needs help."

Well, then. James never could say no to someone in need, and if there was one thing he hated, it was discrimination.

And he could tell how much this Remus person meant to his friend.

"I never said we couldn't help him, mate." James sighed. "Just take this slow, okay? And maybe, you know, lead with he's a nice, dorky bloke _before_ you drop the werewolf thing."

Sirius scoffed. "Not _every_ werewolf is Fenrir Greyback," he muttered, but he smiled at James all the same… even if it was slightly strained.

"I know," James replied guiltily. "I'm… I'm working on it. Maybe let him know I'm working on it."

A small yet genuine smile reached Sirius' lips then. "I knew you'd be good about it," he murmured. "Trying is half the battle, you know. Remus has said that more times than I can count."

Embarrassed and not entirely sure he deserved any praise, James threw an arm around his friend's shoulders. "Sure. Now, why don't you tell me _exactly_ how you know Remus."


End file.
